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The Second Generation by David Graham Phillips
page 6 of 403 (01%)
and, when the son came up, pointed to the big, white letters: "No
Admittance. Apply at the Office."

"How did you get in here?" he asked.

"I called in at the window and ordered one of the men to open the door,"
explained the son.

"Ordered." The father merely repeated the word.

"Requested, then," said the son, feeling that he was displaying
praiseworthy patience with "the governor's" eccentricities.

"Which workman?"

The son indicated a man who was taking a dinner pail from under a
bench at the nearest window. The father called to him: "Jerry!" Jerry
came quickly.

"Why did you let this young--young _gentleman_ in among us?"

"I saw it was Mr. Arthur," began Jerry.

"Then you saw it was not anyone who has any business here. Who gave you
authority to suspend the rules of this factory?"

"Don't, father!" protested Arthur. "You certainly can't blame him. He
knew I'd make trouble if he didn't obey."

"He knew nothing of the sort," replied Hiram Ranger. "I haven't been
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